Grey Peak
by Initiate Six
Summary: Miley needs to get away from it all. But a spur of the moment ski trip leaves her alone and injured, in the care of a woman she doesn't know. But maybe it's just the thing she needs, to find out who she is and what she wants. AU Liley.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey folks! This is my first fic writing foray, particularly in this fandom, for a very long time. We're looking at a relatively short fic, probably 4 or 5 chapters at maybe 15k words total. Short and sweet. I hope you guys like my portrayal of the characters, and if it seems a bit stale this chapter, that's just the way setting up a story works for me, unfortunately. Rest assured, chapter 2 will be much more fun. **

**Enjoy!**

Miley Stewart gave a hearty sigh of contentment as she leaned back into the cushy chairlift, her booted feet dangling with her brand new Salomon skis weighing her down just ever so slightly.

Snow swirled around her like dust, a strong breeze blowing over the top of Grey Peak as the chairlift brought her up and over a final ridge before settling into the lift base at the summit. With a slight heave, she pulled herself out of the chair and gently slid down from the unloading area and out onto the main gathering area, surrounded by trail signs. With a small smile, Miley adjusted her goggles around her head and skated over to the large trail map anchored into the snow with stout wooden beams.

Grey Peak Ski Resort was somewhat of a newcomer to the fraternity of Utah ski mountains, but in its brief 30 year history it had cemented itself as a large, no-nonsense mountain catering to skiers and rider s of any age or skill level. The snooty attitudes of the more established mountains were left at the door here at Grey Peak, and it was the laid back acceptance and well maintained mountain that had drawn Miley here when she decided to get away from it all. Her family, her upcoming wedding, everything. And what a good decision this had been, she reflected, glancing over the trail map with unseeing eyes as she reminisced on the days leading up to her arrival in Huntsville.

When she sat Jake down to tell him her plans, he had predictably blown a fuse. And why shouldn't he? With the wedding just a month away, he had every right to take the news that his bride to be was running off on an impromptu ski vacation. Alone. She had been firm, though. And of course, as always, she had gotten her way and had been on the first plane to Utah the next day.

She could clearly remember the pained expression written across his face.

"Is it something I did?" He had asked, confused at her behavior.

She had smiled at that, kissed his cheek, and reassured him she just needed to get away from everything for a few days.

She couldn't very well tell him she had been having second thoughts after all.

But standing here, at the very peak of this mountain, surrounded by cold air and drifting snow, she could feel her fears and doubts and stress just melting away.

With an unconscious clearing of her throat, she affixed her focus back onto the trail map, deciding on an easy blue cruise down the entirety of the mountain. Spinning herself around and pushing off with her poles, she made her way over to "Drop Chute", pausing only briefly at the mouth of the trail before beginning her lazy, curving descent down.

The snow parted before her skis like soft butter, and as she leaned forward into her descent, she began to lose herself in the rhythmic feel of her edges biting and carving through the snow back and forth, a nearly perfect "S" following her down the still perfectly groomed corduroy.

This was something that Jake didn't understand, her love of skiing and winter. Being a Malibu girl, she could see where it might be tough to see. In fact, it hadn't been until a few years back, when her father had taken her to Squaw Valley at Lake Tahoe to celebrate the release of what would be her final Hannah Montana album that she had found her passion. She'd fallen more times than she could count, had accidentally gone down a black diamond when she meant to take a green down, and had nearly broken at least 3 bones, but as soon as that trip had ended she knew that this was something she needed in her life. And ever year without fail since, she'd taken at least a few ski trips, even going so far as to buy a new pair of skis a few weeks before leaving for Utah, though the plan hadn't even begun to form at that point.

Edging her skis sharply, she slid to a quick stop just before a small steep to take in the sight before her. The front face of the mountain on which she stood gave a spectacular view of a valley whose name eluded Miley. A long, winding river cut a swath through the white and green of the pine infested valley nestled out of the way from the intrusion of urban life.

'I could stay here forever,' she thought, and for just that brief moment, she almost believed she would.

It was then that her musing was interrupted, the sharp trill of an incoming call sounding in her ear through her bluetooth, which she had foolishly decided to keep turned on in case of an emergency. It was the one concession she had allowed her father and Jake, and she had grudgingly accepted, knowing that skiing alone could be dangerous.

With a sigh, she impaled her poles in the snow and removed her gloves before activating the bluetooth.

"Hello?"

"Hey, there's my little snow angel!"

She groaned inwardly at her fiancee's voice. This was the last thing she needed right now.

"Come on, Jake. You told me you'd let me have this time to myself," she reminded him, trying to keep the frustration from her voice.

"I know, I know. I just wanted to give you another chance to give up this silly ski vacation of yours and come home to me. I know you must miss me." She could almost hear his self-satisfied smirk on the other end of the line.

"Dammit, Jake. I-" But he cut her off then.

"Miles, I know you're just doing this to play hard to get. You don't have to anymore though. I mean, we're getting married in a few weeks after all!"

She couldn't explain exactly what aggravated her so much about him now, but she could feel anger boiling inside her at his condescension.

"Keep talking like that and you may be in for an unpleasant surprise, Jake."

She almost winced at how acidic she sounded. They'd never talked to each other like this before, but it felt like all her frustration with Jake was starting to come to a head.

Unfortunately, he missed the seriousness of her statement entirely.

"You're too cute, Miley. Listen, there's a car waiting at the resort. Give up on your crazy obsession and come home. We still have so much to plan."

She couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what, Jake? You can take your car and shove it up your ass! I told you I needed some time alone and this is how you treat me for it? Don't call me again, we'll talk when I get home." And before he could respond, she pressed the button on her headset to end the call.

With a cry of frustration, she ripped the headset out of her ear and threw it as far as she could, watching it sail off over the steep and into the trees off to the side of the trail. Promise to her father be damned, she wasn't going to wear that thing for one more second of her trip.

Taking a few deep breaths to try to regain the calm she'd felt only minutes before, she replaced her gloves and grabbed her poles, taking a moment to take another quick glance at the valley, bathed in morning sunlight before pushing off with a little bit of extra aggression and powering down the steep with a little more force than she normally skied with. Barely carving to maintain a controlled speed, Miley sped down the steep and followed the trail as it cornered into a shaded, slightly less intense slope downward. She settled into a relaxed carve back and forth, though her mood was still slightly darkened.

How dare he? After the increasing arguments they'd been having leading into their wedding, and her deciding to finally try to do something about it, namely taking time away from him, she thought maybe she'd be able to go back and marry Jake Ryan, the man everyone said was everything she needed. But then he goes and pulls this stunt? The _nerve_ of him.

She snapped back to reality just in time to realize that the wind was rushing in her ears a little louder than she was accustomed. She quickly found that she was going quite a bit faster than she normally did on a hill like this, and a rather sharp turn was coming up. Putting a little more oomph into her turn than normal, she felt her skis pressing against her with the pressure of her turn. A little scary, but she was pretty sure she'd be okay coming around this corner.

It happened so quickly that looking back on it, she could never be quite sure exactly where it all went wrong. With a jolt, Miley felt her ski catch and suddenly she was off her edges, being thrown forward just as the corner reached its apex. Looking back, she'd remember seeing the tree rush at her.

Then, nothing.

**-GP-GP-GP-GP-GP-**

The smell of warm roasting coffee brought Lilly Truscott out of her deep, peaceful sleep. Surrounded by luxurious heat from her heavy down blanket and cocooned deeply in her soft king bed, she knew that it would be a fight to get out of bed this morning. Slowly, blearily, she opened her eyes and stretched languidly, a squeaking groan escaping her throat as she worked kinks from her still waking muscles. The first thing she saw out her wide, panoramic bedroom windows was enough to bring her to full wakefulness.

Powder. Fresh powder from the projected snow dump last night. Oh, what a beautiful sight. With a happy cry, she kicked off her blankets and stood straight up on her bed, the cool air caressing her t-shirt and boxers clad body as she did a quick dance of delight before leaping off the mattress and sprinting across the hardwood floors out into the hall and down to the kitchen.

The smell of roasting coffee only intensified and Lilly took a running slide across the floor on her thick, smartwool socks, sliding through the doorway into the large kitchen and coming to a perfect stop in front of the coffee maker. She quickly poured herself a cup and held the oversized mug up to her lips, inhaling deeply.

Starting her day off with a cup of quality coffee had become a ritual for the young athlete, and she'd come to find she couldn't get motivated without it.

Smiling softly, she took a sip of the dark nectar.

"That's a good look for you, Lils."

Lilly spit the small amount of coffee still in her mouth all over the wall behind the sink and spun around quickly to face the source of that voice.

Sitting at the marble island in the middle of her kitchen with a self-satisfied smirk was her best friend and training partner, Oliver Oken. He was dressed in his mid-layer with his heavy ski coat draped over the stool next to him, nursing a steaming cup of coffee in his hands as he leaned heavily on his elbows.

"God Oliver, you scared the crap out of me. You know I hate it when you do that!"

"Hey, you're the one who gave me the key to your place. 'Oh yeah, use it any time!' you said!" Oliver returned, smirk still planted on his face as he took a sip of coffee.

Lilly sent him a half-hearted glare before picking her coffee back up and stepping up to the island, putting it between her and Oliver.

"So," she said, changing the subject, "What are we looking at for numbers?"

"Ten inches across the south face," Oliver replied, his eyes lighting up in excitement, "That woods run you like, the one next to Drop Chute, is looking soft as a down pillow. And we've got..." he glanced at his watch, "...A half hour before lifts open. If you get dressed now, we can be up to the summit just as the chairs start running."

Lilly took another gulp of her coffee before standing and stretching yet again, ignoring the tickle of her blonde hair brushing down into her face.

"Alright, gimme ten, I'll go get dressed. Try not to break anything while I'm gone."

Olive mock saluted before standing up and heading over the pantry.

"You go on," he said, "I'm gonna make some oatmeal."

"You're the best Oliver," Lilly replied with a soft smile as she headed back out to the hall and toward her room.

Fifteen minutes later, she and Oliver were outside clearing off her Polaris snowmobile and securing their gear to the small towable sled she had attached to the machine. Once her skis were locked in tight, she stood and took in her surroundings as she did just about every morning.

The log home in which she lived was perched on the back side of Grey Peak, accessible only by a dirt access road. It was modest, despite being the sole home on the back slope of a rather popular ski resort mountain. Two floors with a few bedrooms and a few extra amenities. It wasn't exactly what people would expect when imagining the home of Lilly Truscott, three time world freeskiing champion, and that was just the way she liked it.

It was her own little piece of paradise, tucked away from the sometimes too exciting life of media and stardom that came from being a popular athlete in a cutting edge sport.

Oliver stood then, his gear locked in and ready for the quick journey up the mountain. Tossing him a grin that said everything that needed saying, she hopped into the drivers seat, her best friend settling in behind her and grabbing tight as she turned over the engine and gunned it up the winding trail that lead to the summit of the mountain. It was a short trip, and they soon found themselves pulling up to the patrol station at the summit. Just as she killed the engine, a tall man dressed in a ski patrol uniform stepped out of the hut and waved at Lilly.

"Good morning, Ms. Truscott," he said heartily as he approached.

"Rick, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Lilly?" She said with a slight smile.

"By my count, only about another thousand times," he replied with a matching smile, "You guys are in for a real treat this morning. We've only had about five or six skiers come through here this morning so you guys should have plenty of fresh lines."

"Sounds great, Rick, thanks. We'll let you know how it looks after a few runs."

Rick gave them a quick wave at that before clicking into his skis and shooting off down one of the side trails.

Lilly quickly unloaded her favorite pair of Armada back country skis and stepped into them. Oliver was a bit behind, so she let him know to catch up and skated off toward Drop Chute, carving left just before the trail mouth and veering into the woods beside it.

She felt so free as soon as she started plowing through the powder, dodging and weaving between the fir trees. Her skis floated through the pillowy snow as though she were on a cloud. Cutting sharply, she pointed herself between two trees, launching off a small rock face, cutting a quick backflip as she did so.

She landed gently in a thick drift and emerged with a loud whoop of enjoyment. She continued on for a ways before pointing herself toward the actual trail of Drop Chute, intending to follow it to another section of trees. Just as she emerged from the woods, she heard a sharp, strangled cry and then a loud slam further ahead on the trail. She quickened her pace, crouching down into the pocket and picking up speed as she headed toward the source of the sound.

She came around a sharp corner following a shaded corridor of trail. As soon as she reached the apex of the trail she saw a young woman laying on her side toward the side of the trail, one of her skis nearly 20 feet away in the woods. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of her head. Lilly slid to a stop just before the woman and kicked her skis off, kneeling down beside her and checking for a pulse with one hand while her other scrambled for her walkie-talkie.

"Oliver! Oliver, you copy?"

There was only a brief second of silence before his response came through.

"What's up, Lil? Are you hurt?"

"No, but if you're still at the patrol station, I need you to grab the snowmobile and a tow-stretcher. I've got a woman hurt over where Drop Chute meets Kowabunga."

"Yeah, I'm still up here, gimme a minute and I'll be right down to you."

The walkie silenced with a crackle and Lilly clipped it back to the strap of her backpack before turning her attention back to the woman. With great care she undid the buckles on the woman's boots and unclipped her skis before gently rolling her so that she was on her back with her spine aligned.

Just as she heard the snowmobile approaching, the woman groaned and opened one eye. Lilly crouched down near to the woman's face.

"Hey there, miss," she said calmly, trying to make her voice clear and concise, "You took a pretty bad fall. Do you remember your name?"

"Ugh. Uhm, Miley. My name's Miley," she said, though with some effort, squeezing her eyes shut again.

"Okay, Miley, I'm Lilly. Now, I need you to squeeze my fingers for me, okay?" With that, Lilly slid the index finger of each of her hands into Miley's own, and was reassured to feel a relatively strong squeeze from each hand.

"Perfect. My friend is on his way with a stretcher, we're gonna get you down to the base and have you checked out. You may have a small concussion," she said gently, absently pushing some hair out of Miley's face, careful to avoid the still bleeding contusion.

"Kay," Miley said, eyes still squeezed shut in pain. "I think something might be wrong with my leg..."

Lilly's brow furrowed as she unzipped the leggings at the bottom of Miley's ski pants and pulled them up gently.

Oliver pulled up just then, snowmobile sliding to a stop just a few feet from them.

"Alright, help me get her on the stretcher. Careful, I think she has a broken leg," Lilly informed him as she pulled the stretcher over beside Miley. With practiced ease, they secured Miley to the backboard before attaching her to the stretcher.

"Lilly?" Came Miley's voice as they were getting ready to start their descent.

"I'm here," she replied, stepping over to where Miley could see her.

"I'm gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course you are. We've got a pretty awesome medical staff here. They'll get you fixed up."

"Good." With that, Miley's eyes slid closed again, as though attempting to block out the pain.

"Hang in there," Lilly said gently as she slid up to the controls on the snowmobile, "Hang in there."

And with that, they gunned it, heading for the base area and medical tent as quickly as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Aaaaand here's chapter 2. I'm trying to make the build up between our two heroines as realistic as possible and I hope that the progress they make here doesn't seem rushed. Like I mentioned in the last chapter, it's been awhile since I've done much writing, so let me know in reviews if there's anything you think I could work on or anything in particular you'd like to see. Enjoy the chapter!**

Multicolored dots swam behind her eyelids as a bright light fought to tear through those thin barriers and reach her slate irises. With a groan of annoyance, Miley tried to turn over and away from the light, only to be shocked into wakefulness from the pain inflicted by her attempt at movement. It was like her _everything_ hurt, with a strong focus on her left leg and her head. She lay there, eyes wide open now and heart thumping as she tried desperately to remember what had happened.

She remembered stopping on that trail, definitely remembered her phone conversation, throwing her bluetooth away...And that was it. All she had after that were brief flashes of a quickly approaching tree and a woman with angelic hair.

Miley furrowed her brow at that last one. She definitely didn't know this girl whose face was but a vague recollection. But for some reason, fixing that blurry face in her mind brought about a small sense of peace.

With great effort and no little amount of discomfort, she turned her head to take in the room she was in. Definitely not her hotel room, but just as definitely not a hospital room. The walls were a warm reddish brown, almost a toasted orange, and the room was decorated in a rustic but very tasteful manner. Hand carved wooden furniture adorned the room and what appeared to be custom paintings of various mountain ranges covered the walls.

Feeling around her, as she felt she was in no position to sit up, Miley determined that she was currently in a king bed with _very_ expensive bedding. The sheets simultaneously slid across her body like silk and clung to her, soft and warm, like the best linen money could buy.

So that led to her next question of many: where was she?

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Instinctively, Miley attempted to rise to a sitting position. She immediately regretted this choice, but followed through with it stubbornly, eventually resting with her back against the headboard.

"Come in," she croaked out. Her throat felt like sandpaper.

The door at the opposite end of the room from the bed opened slowly and a blonde head peeked in. Seeing Miley sitting up, the mystery blonde let loose a dazzling smile and pushed the door open fully, revealing a tray piled with breakfast foods.

Suddenly, Miley realized she was ravenous.

"I thought you might be hungry," the blonde said brightly as she carried the tray over to the bed and settled it onto Miley's lap.

Miley's eyes widened at the sheer amount of food on the tray. Bacon, sausage, a quartered grapefruit, pancakes, and a glass each of milk and orange juice. It was like one of those ridiculous "complete" breakfasts on the cereal commercials.

Her stomach rumbled, loudly, just then, but she made the difficult decision to ignore the food for now and focus on answers.

"Thank you," she said to the girl still standing beside her bed, "I've got a couple of questions, though."

The blonde nodded. "I figured you would," she said. She settled down onto the edge of Miley's bed and snagged a strip of bacon, taking a bite before continuing. "Fire away."

Miley narrowed her eyes for a moment in though, trying to collect herself and figure out what she wanted to know first. Sorting information was painful still; her head felt as though someone had beaten on it repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

After a few moments, she turned back to the woman now sitting on her bed.

"Okay, firstly, who are you and where am I?"

The woman laughed, not loudly, but with a kind of simple delight.

"This'll be the third time I've answered these questions," she said with a giggle, "but the doctors did say you'd have some memory issues for the first couple of days."

She managed to calm herself before taking another bite of bacon.

"My name's Lilly," she went on, "Lilly Truscott. And you're at my home."

Miley's eyes widened, impressed. "This is your place? Sweet digs. If this is what your guest room looks like, I can't wait to see the rest of your house."

"Well, thanks for the compliment, but this is actually the master bedroom. Both of my guest rooms are on the second floor, and you'd have trouble with the stairs, given the broken leg. Not to mention the balance issues a grade 1 concussion will likely have."

At Lilly's mention of her leg, Miley gently set the tray aside and pulled up the covers to peek ignored for the moment that she was clad only in a tank top and panties, despite being very sure she was wearing much more clothing last she was aware. Her heart sank at the sight of the thick cast encasing her entire lower leg.

"What happened to me?" She asked finally, lowering the sheet and comforter gently.

Lilly gestured vaguely with the half of bacon strip she still held.

"You wiped out, to put it simply. I didn't actually see it, I got to you just after it happened, but from the looks of things you had caught an edge or something on a corner and got flung into a tree. We're not sure how the leg happened, but your concussion was likely the result of blunt impact with the tree."

Miley nodded, gently and only barely to avoid aggravating her head.

"That makes sense," she said, "I'm having these flashes of a tree rushing at me. That must be from the accident." She picked up a sausage link and started to eat, little nibbles at first. After a moment, she paused her chewing and swallowed as another question occurred to her.

"How did I end up here?"

Lilly smiled and seemed to turn just the slightest red from embarrassment.

"I kind of made the doctors let me bring you here. They said you were fine and just needed some rest, but from your drivers license I knew you weren't from around here."

"So they just let you bring me here? Just like that?"

"They didn't have much of a choice," Lilly said, turning just a little redder.

"So you just snapped your fingers and ordered them to let you take me home with you?" Miley questioned. It did seem a little crazy, "Where do you get that kind of power?"

"Well, when you own the mountain and resort a town is built around, people tend to give you a little respect," Lilly informed her, her face now flushed with embarrassment, "Enjoy your breakfast."

And with that, she stood, walked briskly to the door, and gently closed it behind her, taking one last glance at Miley before the door clicked shut.

Miley sat in stunned silence for just a moment before grabbing the syrup and settling into her breakfast.

"Wow," was all she said before shaking her head and taking a bite.

**-****GP****-****GP****-****GP****-****GP****-****GP****-**

As soon as the door was closed, Lilly leaned softly against the wall and fought to reduce the burning in her cheeks. Even after all this time, she still got so embarrassed whenever she told someone about her inheritance. When she took over the mountain, a lot of her friends in the freeskiing community had turned away from her, looking at her as a sellout.

She sighed heavily, her cheeks returning to their normal pink color, then pushed off from the wall and made her way down the hallway, moving past the kitchen and turning smoothly on the hardwood floors into the wide open expanse of her living room.

Of all the rooms in her home, this was Lilly's favorite. High ceilings set with criss-crossing beams of solid maple gave the room a warm, open feeling and the large, open fireplace set dead center in the outside-facing wall provided a perfect gathering place for friends and family. Seated in one of the cushy couches near the roaring fire was Oliver, his feet pulled up on the couch beside him, his face buried in a new issue of Powder magazine.

Lilly sat heavily in the couch opposite Oliver's, picking up her now warm glass of milk and taking a gulp.

"How is she?" Oliver asked, setting down the magazine.

"Seems better than yesterday," Lilly replied, nursing her glass with both hands and pulling her legs up and under her body Indian style. "She was a lot more alert and responsive. I'd say the effects of the concussion are probably fading."

Oliver nodded. "That's good," he said, "Now, onto the big question: what do you plan to do next?"

"Well, there's recovery time. The doctor said he doesn't want her flying until next week at the earliest. So I'll let her stay here until then at least. After that, I'm not sure. Her leg is pretty badly banged up. If she wants to go home, I won't stop her, but I'd like her to let that heal up just a little bit before she goes traipsing off."

Oliver was silent for a few moments after that, giving her a penetrating look. Lilly returned the look, tilting her head just a bit in curiosity.

"Whatcha starin' at, Ollie?" Lilly asked, almost nervously.

Oliver opened his mouth, shut it for a beat, then finally spoke what was on his mind.

"Are you planning on sleeping with her, Lils?"

Lilly gasped in mock indignance as Oliver cracked a big grin. Laughing, she threw a pillow at him.

"No, you idiot, I'm not planning on sleeping with her!"

Still laughing, Oliver replied, "I just had to make sure. After what happened with Lynsey..."

He trailed off, and Lilly's smile died.

"I'm sorry," he said, "But I know it's still getting to you, the way she left, so-"

"No, it's okay," Lilly replied, waving his concern away, "I get it. I promise, Oliver, I'm over her. And this Miley girl is just someone in need of a hand. She's far from home, alone, and hurt. She needs help, and as it's my mountain, I can decide to be the one to help her."

"Understood," Oliver said, leaning back into the couch and picking his magazine back up.

They sat in companionable silence for several moments before Oliver broke the silence again.

"She's probably not into girls anyway."

Lilly let out a mock shriek of fury and dove across the coffee table at him. He yelped in surprise, dropping his magazine and pulling up a pillow to use as protection. Lilly perched herself atop him and started raining playful blows down upon the pillow, laughing merrily the whole time.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," came a voice from the doorway.

The two halted their fight immediately and turned their heads toward the source of the voice. Miley stood in the wide archway leading into the living room, balancing precariously upon a crutch on her injured side, one eyebrow quirked up and a half smirk of amusement playing across her lips.

"Not at all!" Lilly said, hopping off of Oliver and walked toward Miley. "I'm surprised to see you up and about," she said as she reached the girl.

"Yeah, well, bein' cooped up in the bed for awhile was starting to do a number on my back so I figured I'd get up and stretch a bit, now that I've gotten a bite to eat and my head doesn't feel like a giant, lead-filled balloon."

Lilly laughed at that, then turned and wrapped Miley's arm on her good side around her shoulders to help her over to the couches. Miley seemed grateful for the help, favoring her good leg much more now that she could keep some weight off of the uncomfortable crutch.

"So," Miley said as she sat down on the couch next to Lilly, "this is definitely a pretty nice house."

"Thanks," Lilly said, "It's my baby. Ever since I retired and took over the mountain I've spent most of my time up here, so I try to make it as nice as I possibly can."

"It definitely shows. I'm Miley, by the way," she said, holding a hand out to Oliver.

"Oliver Oken," he said, flashing her his trademark grin and winking.

"Oken...I know that name," Miley said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of a big deal," Oliver said with exaggerated arrogance.

"So you keep saying," Lilly said with a shrug, "I just don't see it."

Oliver's expression changed to one of mock hurt as he crossed his arms and pouted.

Miley snapped her fingers in triumph just then.

"You're the guy who won Dew Tour last season!" She exclaimed.

Oliver bowed, or as close to a bow as one can perform while seated, before replying, "Guilty as charged. I'm all done with the competitive stuff now, though. From now on I'll be working here, running the heli-skiing tours for Lilly."

It dawned on Miley then why Lilly's face seemed so familiar. She turned toward the girl sitting next to her with something akin to awe.

"So wait. You're THE Lilly Truscott?"

"In the flesh," Lilly said, a bit sheepishly. Even after all this time, fame was a strange feeling for her.

"Wow," Miley said, sitting back with a slightly shocked expression, "now I _really_ feel like an amateur, sittin' here with a broken leg and a concussion I got from a flippin' blue trail of all things."

"Hey, everybody makes mistakes," Oliver said reassuringly, "Just the other day, Lilly was giving a private lesson to one of the shareholder's kids and she fell flat on her face on the bunny hill!"

Lilly's cheeks were tinged pink.

"I told you, my edge caught a burr. It was a freak accident!"

"That's what they all say," Oliver replied with a sly wink to Miley.

Miley laughed outright then, a deep and throaty laugh, and Lilly's embarrassment washed away with that sound.

'What a gorgeous laugh,' she found herself thinking before she could catch herself. She shook her head then, clearing her mind. She caught Oliver's eye and he gave her a knowing grin before standing up.

"Alright kiddos, time for me to scoot. I've got one more tour at one before I get to head home. You two have a fun afternoon, try not to get eaten by any coyotes."

"There aren't any coyotes out here, Oliver, stop trying to scare her."

"You don't know. This is the godless wild. There could be anything out there," he said, waggling his fingers spookily as he walked past the couch the girls were on. He gave Lilly a little pat on her head as he passed and shook Miley's hand over Lilly's head before swaggering out of the living room through a side entrance that lead to the foyer.

The girls sat in silence as the door shut behind Oliver, the sounds of his Jeep heading down the mountain road fading into the distance before either of them spoke.

"So," Miley said, breaking the comfortable quiet that had overcome them, "Did the doctor give you any instructions on how I should bathe when you strong-armed him into letting you kidnap me?"

Lilly grinned at Miley's joking tone.

"He said baths would be preferable to showers, to try to keep your cast clean. And, in my infinite wisdom, I had the only bath in the house constructed in the upstairs bathroom. Do you want a hand getting up there?"

"Please," Miley replied gratefully. Lilly helped her up off the couch then and, after making sure Miley's crutch was secure, lead the woman over to the stairs. For the duration of their difficult climb up, Miley rested a fair amount of her weight on Lilly, but Lilly found that she didn't mind all that much having this attractive young woman pressed against her.

Once in the bathroom, Lilly leaned down to start the bath, turning around once the water was warm. Immediately she gasped and for what felt like the fiftieth time today her face turned beat red.

While her back had been turned, Miley had begun the arduous process of stripping down while injured. As Lilly turned around, she had just finished shimmying her pajama pants off and was carefully stepping out of them, now clad in only a black bra and matching panties.

Lilly felt her mouth go dry, taking in a body that was obviously very well taken care of. She stared, intensely, for a few seconds. Her eyes crawled up Miley's body, starting at the cast and moving up her smooth, creamy thighs, the taut stomach, perfectly rounded breasts barely covered by that silky bra. When her eyes met Miley's returned gaze, she quickly averted her eyes, turning and heading for the door.

"Towels are in the closet, I'll be in the office just down the hall, yell when you're ready to go downstairs."

Before she could hear Miley's response, she opened and closed the door behind her, not turning around to avoid seeing Miley's expression. She knew what was waiting there. Awkward disapproval, maybe disgust.

Lynsey had been right after all. No girl would want to be with her.

Once safely in the hallway, Lilly leaned back against the wall and let out a heavy breath, sinking down to a sitting position against the wall with her head in her hands.

'I can't fall for this girl,' she thought seriously, 'I just can't.'

From within the bathroom, she heard the chorus of All-American Rejects' "Gives You Hell" blare briefly before hearing Miley's voice.

"Hello?"

There were a few seconds of silence, the party on the other end clearly talking.

"No, Jake, I'm fine. I have a broken leg and a concussion. No, I'm not coming back home just yet. The owner of the resort was kind enough to let me stay with her until I'm okay to fly again."

Another long silence.

"She's very nice. She's our age and used to be a competitive skier. NO, I'm not going to dump you for a ski chick. I don't know where you get these ideas."

She could hear a tinny voice then, the sound from the phone amplified by the acoustics of the bathroom, though she couldn't make out the words.

"God dammit, Jake, when did you get so insecure! I'm legitimately injured, and you're accusing me of making up a story to get out of marrying you? Well, if you're so worried about that, maybe I'll just stay here a little longer! I can afford a hotel room once I'm well enough to get out of Lilly's hair."

More yelling from the phone, much shorter this time, then-

"No. No, no. NO. Jake, shut the hell up! You know what? I'll make this a hell of a lot easier for you: wedding's off. Have a nice life."

She could only assume that the call ended there, as she heard plastic clatter to the floor and a loud, angry sigh emanate from Miley.

Much as she felt bad for Miley, as well as this mystery man, she couldn't help but smile a little.

Maybe there was a chance after all.


End file.
